


halaween

by discountghost



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Horror, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26766004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discountghost/pseuds/discountghost
Summary: Hello! This is a collection of Halloween prompts. The hope is to get one done every day. You can find the promptshere.All drabbles included in this are first posted onto twitter to this threadhere.
Relationships: Everyone/Everyone, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: Cawlloween





	1. day 1: new moon

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. This is based off of Zaly's October prompt list, linked in the summary and again in the end notes.
> 
> I won't be taking requests for these and a lot of these have somewhat been planned a bit huhu i might have cheated a Tad Bit there. The plan is to finish and post in the morning, and then in the evening I'll transfer it here to ao3. Hopefully, you enjoy!

Darkness.

An ever-present deep blackness had swallowed the night and Seonghwa supposed that was what had him thinking this would be a fair night for investigation. For a hunt. New moons had always presented a fair night for such things. But perhaps he had been...a little inaccurate. It had been a fair night for  _ something _ and he’d gotten himself wrapped up in it. He blinked now, still confused, as he stared down the creature that he could only see when the faint twinkle of the stars touched his blade. A creature that wore his face as if it were its own.

It regarded him carefully, seemed to make no move to attack. At least, not in the moment. His side stung from where fingers had carved through flesh. He supposed he deserved that, just a little. He had, after all, made the first swing. Because the best defense would be a good offense and catching the creature unawares was an opportunity he couldn’t miss.

“I...am not sure what impression you must have, but I think you are mistaken.” It was his voice, but not his. The same measured drawl, but different. More sure.

His own voice wavered under the weight of a chuckle. “Oh, I am very sure of my impressions, demon.”

“It would be in your best interest to reconsider.” The creature took a step back, and he advanced. If he stepped too far into the inky blackness of the night — where not even the stars could reach him — he would be out of Seonghwa’s reach. “For one: demon might not be the term for which you seek.”

“There are a lot of things to call your kind.” The words themselves left him in a less than pleasant manner, dripped with contempt. He inclined his head as the creature’s eyes glinted. 

“You’re injured, and I can help.”

“Might I remind you that this injury is from you?” His brow twitched. The crunch of gravel beneath the demon’s foot had Seonghwa stepping forward once more. Where the fuck was his partner? 

“Please. It was self-defense.” Whatever game was being played, the other was growing tired of it. The demon’s hands dropped. “Clearly, something has happened that has placed you...here. Or me.”

For once, rather than try to flee, the demon closed the gap between them. Seonghwa could see his own blood dripping from the creature’s hands. It looked as black as the night around them. His grip on his sword tightened, jaw clenched. But he wouldn’t show fear, lest the other use it against him.

It was a strange thing, to stare at oneself outside of the confines of a mirror. Or a window in passing on the street. But yet — here he was, doing just that. The same dark hair, the brows that furrowed at just the right angle. His clothing was different, but not without taste. Distress rang clear on the creature’s face and as he spoke, canines sharper than Seonghwa’s own were flashed at him. He’d almost missed the hiss of sizzling flesh — if not for the smell. Like meat put on low heat without butter in a pan. The demon had gripped his sword at the blade, gently urged it point hellward. 

“What do they call you?” A name was of importance, and if this demon meant peace...it might well give it willingly.

He was right. “Seonghwa.”

“As they call me.” The hunter’s brow twitched. Burning flesh still filled the air. He drew back his sword, ignored the pain that shot through his side with the change of position as he sheathed it. “Park Seonghwa. Fourth General in the Cardinal’s Holy Army.” He bowed as deep as he could, free hand clutched at his side while the other remained at the hilt of his sword.

“It would seem we have an interesting situation on our hands.”

His vision was darkening. How much blood had he lost? Seonghwa righted himself, shuffled as he looked around. But the night of the new moon had swallowed everything up, even when he’d first left base. And it would swallow him, too, it would seem. His eyes fluttered and he was struck with a thought that just barely made him laugh: they had been right. He had been the end of himself.


	2. day2: fangs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He grinned. “If you should break my fangs, I will need only my bones.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: body horror  
> please be advised!

Beside him glinted the metal of his swords. The curved blades have been snapped like twigs, crushed underfoot as the creature stared him down. They had called them his fangs. Had thought that this would be enough? Was there pity in its eyes? His ability to recognize anything but fear and hatred had been marred through the years. This was new. They must have thought they’d felled him. He could feel every inch of injury, but it sang out sweetly as a reminder that no, they had not killed him. They, perhaps, had thought to show  _ mercy. _ He would not make the same mistake.

He pushed himself up, a smile on his face as they watched him with muted horror. Frustration. Behind him, he could hear Yeosang gasp. The blonde had done well in hiding. Wedged between their bed and the standing closet, he’d crawled further under the space. They locked eyes now. The bright blue of the Dragonborn meeting the endless pools of night. San, before this, had promised that he’d show the other what a dragon had looked like. When they still ruled the skies and reigned terror from the heavens.

His arm was broken. That much, he was sure of. It hung limply at his side as he staggered back to his full height. One blade intact; the hidden one they’d missed. Heroes. What they called themselves. Did they know what was at stake? He bore his teeth, a grin that split his face nearly from ear to ear.

“Stand down and give us the dragonchild.” The knight spoke. Armor that shone in the candlelight. The crest of the Northern king. “Please. I would rather not see more bloodshed.”

“You’re a knight; isn’t that what you do?” He could laugh. Would, if his lungs didn’t protest speaking already.

The other pursed his lips, pointed his sword at San. “You’re outmanned; stand down.”

“I’ve fought housewives more intimidating than you.”

The knight’s gaze flickered around the room. Just to his right, the mage took a step forward. Held up a hand as if to cast their spell and San stepped in its path. If they had cast something, it would bounce off his blade. But it was nothing more than a simple locator. He realized, with a bubble of anger, that they’d have to have taken something from Yeosang to do that.

“He’s under the bed.” Four smooth words that had San rushing to action. 

The blade slid into warm flesh. Cleaved through the thin fabric of the mage’s robes to part skin. A scream sounded as the mage fell back, stomach open for all the gods to see. Intestines quivered under candlelight and San might have rejoiced for taking down one of them if not for the shield that rocked him. Knocked him right into the wall. Something like a snap reached his ears as he collided with the wall, and he lost feeling in his last working arm.

Whimpers filled the air, accompanied by the dull beat of armored feet crossing the room to the bed. He’d promised Yeosang he would protect him. As he slumped down to his knees, he glanced over to the mage. The healer of their group worked to patch flesh together but they would miss the bite of poison that turned the mage’s blood. That made her insides squirm like worms fresh from the soil. 

Hands curled into the collar of his shirt, pulled him upright. He watched, with little concern, as the last of his blades were broken.

“Your fangs are no more, foul bastard.”

He grinned. “If you should break my fangs, I will need only my bones.” 

Beneath his skin was the uneasy curl of  _ something _ moving within the confines of his body. It rattled the bones of its skeletal cage. He felt first his chest parting, a blood bloom that crunched its way forward. The other knight had an arm wrapped firmly around Yeosang’s bicep. Another rush of anger, another spout of blood as the body in his body reached forth to grab the knight’s face. 

“And if my bones should break.” His voice did not sound like his own. Deep, and almost weary of the proceedings. Tired; ancient. He glanced over to Yeosang, smile still on his face as tendrils of flesh slipped down like ribbons. They coursed around the room, almost engulfing it. Someone, perhaps Yeosang or himself, screamed again. “Then, I shall use the mangled remains of this body.”


	3. day3: demon hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I really don’t think this is the time to—”
> 
> “Beloved, you think there’s never a time for this.”
> 
> “Flirting while we’re in the middle of battle isn’t ideal, Seonghwa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i put myself on a 10 min timer for this lmao

“I really don’t think this is the time to—”

“Beloved, you think there’s never a time for this.”

“Flirting while we’re in the middle of battle isn’t ideal, Seonghwa.”

The hunter tipped his head to the side, glanced away. They’d been on the hunt for, what, a mere thirty minutes when the demon had shown its face. Had done them a favor, really. But now he risked getting his three-piece suit dirty and he  _ had _ been hoping to ask his partner to dinner after this.

It wasn’t often that he was sent to sniffing after a dog like this, but this particular demon had made light of numerous hunters already. Of course they would send someone of his caliber in. He sighed, shrugged as San glared up at him. The two had wedged themselves into a hiding space. His jacket hung loosely from the other’s shoulders, covering where the creature had torn into his clothes. Perhaps he was still cross with him for making the other play the bait.

“I did apologize.”

“But you aren’t sorry.” It sounded as though it came out in a pout. 

Seonghwa glanced down at the other, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Truly, I am. I thought they’d given you enough combat training.”

“I’m a  _ wytch! _ I’m supposed to stand  _ behind you _ in the line of fire.”

“But what happens if someone comes up behind us?” 

They were close in the tight space. Close enough that Seonghwa could feel the way San’s heartbeat picked up. The other had never been good with hiding his emotions. The blush that seemed to color the freckles at his neck and cheeks was as good a sign as any. He could feel the wytch’s breath fan out over his skin and he moved his gloved hand to the other’s cheek. Eyes that he’d thought more than once had swallowed the stars widened at the action. Good; he was thoroughly distracted. The last thing he needed was for the other to scream.

The demon whimpered as it was stuck like a pig, flesh sizzling around the consecrated blade shoved into its skull. San froze as it registered that the blackened blood of the creature had flashed onto him. Splattered onto the side of his face like paint thrown at a canvas. Seonghwa wiped away a drop with his thumb.

“I guess I should work on seeing behind my head, shouldn’t I?”

San let out a whimper of affirmation.


	4. day4: spell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In theory, it was a simple spell. Anyone, technically, could do it. The success of it, however, is what made it harder than it seemed.

In theory, it was a simple spell. Anyone, technically, could do it. The success of it, however, is what made it harder than it seemed. Yeosang pulled his hair back once more, toyed with the ponytail he’d put it in hours ago. The ribbon would likely fall away in the process, but he still wanted to start without hair in his eyes.

His hands traced the lines of the summoning circle. Another easy thing. He’d had many days in the Academy to figure out something so simple. The distinctions between the varying circles had been the better part of the class and yet — he sucked in a breath, and stared down at his hands. They were covered in the black of the chalk, the powdery residue coating his fingers. Smudges of it like he’d been playing in the dirt. This  _ was _ something that was supposed to be done outdoors, but he couldn’t risk the visibility.

They didn’t teach the young witches in class the consequences of their spells. They didn’t give them the insight to consider that, maybe, they were giving up more than they had initially bargained for. Yeosang was not to be fooled in such a way. Not then, not now.

He clenched his jaw, steeled himself. The knife lay before him, just within reach of his hands at the center of the circle. He could certainly pull it forward with little effort. A glance up to the empty rafters, as if he feared that God would be watching. Gods be damned. The slice through flesh was quick. But cutting down to the bone — that was much harder. He stifled a groan, keeled over as he murmured the words needed.

The price was only a few fingers. Give or take. They’d be returned to him if this was successful, and if not...he’d be marked for what he had attempted. He worked the knife back and forth. The slow cut of metal through already cut flesh as it sawed at bone filled him with a rattle. He could hardly feel anymore. Used the invocation to keep him at bay. Tears fell from his eyes just as the fingers from his hand dropped. One, two, three. He clutched the mangled stump close to his chest.

The first wisps of smoke rose up and his gasp betrayed him. Turned into a sob as a figure emerged. Glowing bright eyes regarded him, and the sacrifice of his twitching hand. Teeth gleamed as the creature smiled.

“Well done.”


	5. day5: love potion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wooyoung tries out a potion.

“Uh.”

San blinked as Wooyoung slammed the door shut. His chest heaved as he leaned up against the door, before he was back to moving again. He was in a flurry, putting the locks in their place. San watched with interest but said nothing. The other would likely tire himself out enough to tell him what was wrong. But San didn’t have to wait that long.

“I. San. Fuck! I fucked up.” 

“Yeah?” The other’s brows rose as he smoothed down Byeol’s fur.

“I really, really fucked up.”

Wooyoung wrung his hands out as he crossed to where his friend was sprawled out on the couch. Remnants of a spell were still littered about the space, but he didn’t really care.

“I tried out a potion.”

“How’d that go?”

As if someone unholy sign, a knocking came. The door rattled as whoever on the other side tried the knob. The two of them had long since grown weary of the mundane locks and protections that the world offered, and had initially seen no reason to lock their doors. There were greater protections. Now, though, Wooyoung was pleased they’d at least left the locks there for a sign of normalcy. For them to blend in with those less magical in the complex.

“Wooyoung? Can we talk?”

His blood ran cold. He sounded the same. The same sweet boy that he’d known before. The doorknob rattled again. The little metal knob would surely fall out at this point. 

“Is that Yunho?” San sat up, Byeol hopping off his lap. He crossed to the door, brows furrowed before he glanced back at Wooyoung. The other witch was practically frozen in place, gaze trained on the door. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but the result to be this — he put his hand on the knob. “Can you come back another time, Yunho?”

A pause. A stillness that stretched out for what felt like minutes. Then — “San?”

Before he could answer, even so much as react, the rattling started again. Stronger than before. It was enough that the whole frame shook. Then, it stopped again. Footsteps retreated down the hall. San turned to Wooyoung.

“The hell did you give him?”

The steps turned back around. Thundered down the hall back to their apartment. 

“A love potion.”

The door gave way easily under Yunho’s weight.


	6. day6: palmistry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was almost Halloween. People loved a good scare. Peopled _loved_ the thought of danger happening near them in this time of year, so they could come back to claim they survived. Some would be disappointed that it was all a hoax. Some wouldn’t care because they figured as much. The way this man’s face fell didn’t bode well.

Mingi was no expert when it came to palmistry. He was even less of an expert when it came to faking it. He hunched over the hand in front of him, glanced back up to the face it belonged to. Around them, the county fair went on like nothing was amiss. He’d never been quite as good at fake readings, but Hongjoong had simply told him to make it as convincing as possible and all would be well.

The red-haired faux palmist swallowed as he looked up once more at the ever expectant face of his customer. Wide eyes that filled with the light of excitement as they took him in. Full lips that parted just slightly around a smile. He swallowed again. A cruel twist hit his gut and the usual misery he had no problems claiming to happen fell away. 

“Your life line is.” He coughed a bit, stared down at the other’s hand. “It’s short. And the line for your fate.” He traced the faint marking on the other’s palm, watched his fingers twitch upward in an effort to stop the tickling sensation. “It’s faint.” 

It was almost Halloween. People loved a good scare. Peopled  _ loved _ the thought of danger happening near them in this time of year, so they could come back to claim they survived. Some would be disappointed that it was all a hoax. Some wouldn’t care because they figured as much. The way this man’s face fell didn’t bode well.

“He was right.” It was breathed out so low, he wasn’t sure he was meant to hear it. He probably wasn’t. He supposed the man had figured out that he was no more than a sham. He couldn’t do much about that. “Uh, how long does it say I have to live?”

Wait, what?

“Uh.” He stared dumbly at the man. A truck’s horn blared in the distance.

“Does it tell me how much time I have? Minutes? Hours?”

“It’s doesn’t — doesn’t work like that.” He fumbled for the right words, because what in  _ that _ could have made the other think that he was going to actually die soon.

“Seriously, c’mon!” His voice cracked, picked up a whole octave. The sleepy little nook he’d put himself into was gathering attention. The crunch of dirt and mud and gravel filled the air as the truck, probably to drop off produce from one of the farmers, drew closer.

Mingi shook, glanced around as people started to look their way. “Hey, calm down, it was just a—”

“It’s not a joke!” The man was on his feet. Someone called out a name — Wooyoung? — and he turned.

The truck stopped. Mingi could hear the grate of the worn break pads. But its cargo, seemed content on continuing the motion. Mingi had often wondered what sort of metalwork they did here. The straps holding the metal statue down sliced easily. They must have been rubbed against the edge for the entirety of the trip. Through the back window, and the front, the metal bucking goat went. A small thing, really. About the size of a head.

The size of the same head it smashed through, splattering blood and flesh. Someone, he wasn’t sure who, screamed as the body swayed and dropped. The driver hopped out just as warmth slid down his legs.  _ Oh. _ Mingi’s knees knocked together and he laughed, just a tiny bit, that he’d pissed himself. 

So much for the farmer’s market.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find the thread for this on [twitter](https://twitter.com/discountghosts/status/1311665433423089665?s=20).


End file.
